Another Time, Juliet
by Gypset
Summary: One shot. Predates Season One, set Freshman year. A moment in time, from Jughead's point of view. Hope you enjoy, and I love feedback.


Another Time, Juliet

One shot. Predates Season One, set Freshman year. A moment in time, from Jughead's point of view. Hope you enjoy, and I love feedback.

Bbbbbbrrrrrrriiiiiiinnnnnnngggggg!

The third period bell rings out. I throw my messenger bag over my shoulder and bolt for the classroom door, jutting out into the hallway, and almost sliding on the freshly waxed linoleum. Luckily, I catch myself just in time and before anyone else is out in the hallway to see my fumble. I break free through the building's side doors before the bell has even ended and I am off, on my short cut across Riverdale High's front lawn to the liberal arts hall on the other side of the building.

My enthusiasm isn't because I am gaining my freedom from my least favorite class of the day - who really needs Algebra, anyway? I have somewhere I need to get fast. Most would think I am running to English class, so I can bury my head in a novel, or write dark poetry, or hone in on my grammatical skills. Not that I don't overly enjoy those things, but that's not the real reason.

The real reason? Well if it wasn't irony, I don't know what is, really.

Angsty. Sardonic. Lone Wolf. Tortured Soul. Classic film enthusiast. The epitome of doesn't fit in, and never will. Me. Jughead Jones... is head over heels in love with Betty Cooper. The perfect, quintessential all American girl next door.

She. She is about to get out of her third period history class, will be making her way down the liberal arts hall and I am trying to casually get a glimpse of her before lunch. I've got this notion that the more time I spend around Betty, even if it is in the littlest ways, will lead to something, anything happening between the two of us.

However, there lies a major problem with my daily school week ritual. All my efforts go into a girl who barely knows that I am alive. To her, I am probably nothing more then Archie's strange friend. That weird, overly noir creep that's always breaking in on her milk shake time with Archibald, the same way I was crashing their play dates in the sandbox a decade ago.

Not to mention, we're as different as night and day. She always wears her hair in a perfectly curled pony tail. Her flawless skin and meticulous planned outfits. Me. I've always got this stupid beanie on my head and only wear black and gray because how can black and gray not match? And there's that whole dark vibe I have going.

My sprint ends at the outside doors leading to the hall. I take a second to catch my breath and gain some composure before entering. After all, I can't look as if I just did a mad dash to get here. That would be creepy. The hall is starting to fill with students as I walk in. The first person I notice in the crowd is Archie. Archie, my best friend. Who am I kidding? He's my only friend. Archie is also Betty's best friend. Frankly, Archie is everyone's friend. He's like Riverdale's version of Captain Freaking America and there he was exiting his third period class on my left... laughing at something stupid one of his Jock friends inevitably said as throws his book bag casually over one shoulder. He notices me and nods in acknowledgment and I nod back.

Archie Andrews. The third facet to my Betty problem. The apple of Betty's eye. The way she shamelessly flirts and chases after that dimpled faced ginger. It's nauseating. Seriously nauseating. The whole thing is nauseating, if I stop and think of my current predicament.

Jughead Jones. Betty Cooper. Archie Andrews. Its the weirdest, unbeknownst, unrequited love paradox. I love Betty. Betty loves Archie and Archie? Well, Archie loves anything in a skirt. This dance we are doing can not possibility end well.

I desperately fought my feelings for Betty, but they had been brewing for years and the more I tried to suppress it the worst it got. For awhile I played it off, chalked it up to the infamous hormones of puberty playing tricks on my mind and it was merely the fact that Betty has been filling out her sweaters more with each passing year. The hole in that great hypothesis is I don't even look at other girls. Never did. I only have eyes for Betty.

My eyes scan the crowd for her and there she is suddenly on my right. Books held close to her chest, her flaxen hair bouncing in its signature look. She is just as she is most days, wrapped up in something Kevin is saying to her as they walk out of class, thick as thieves. They are usually the last out the door, so by the time I make it to this side of campus, we almost... almost run into each other.

But today. Today is like no other. For some reason, Betty turns her attention from Kevin just long enough to look right at me and... smiles. She waves and I can see but can't hear, her lips, her beautiful pink lips say "Hey Jug."

I return the wave, wonder if I should chase after her and Kevin and start a conversation. But what the hell do I say? I don't small talk. I'm a brooding outsider who only talks about conspiracy theories, black and white movies and other things that the average 15 year old cheerleader has no interest in.

And as I ponder my response to the highlight of my freshman year, I feel a thud. I'm not paying attention and I've walked right into somebody. Oh, no... not somebody.

"Hey! Don't you watch where you're going, Freak?!" I hear Reggie shout. I tightly close my eyes and mutter "Great" under my breathe, because now I have to focus my attention to keep from getting pummeled by this doofus.

Another time, Juliet.


End file.
